Don't Look for What You're Not Willing to Give
by hueyfreemanrocksmyworld
Summary: Change? That was a regular thing for the Freemans. Screw that, a hourly thing that occurred for the Freeman clan. But how can one simple change, like changing high schools, create so many other changes, and affect not only the Freeman fam, but the ones who surround them? And, make them not sure of what they're able to give, or willing to? HxJ Rx? MCx? Cx?(better summary on its way)
1. Welcome to Wuncler Hills Academy

**A/N: so, I downloaded the first two volumes of Boondocks comics on my kindle, and read them over and over and over. Then, I reread a bunch of high school fics, and even read one or two for the first time, and watched practically every Boondocks I could (including the banned ones, like Pause, The Uncle Ruckus Reality Show, and The Hunger Strike (watch them on youtube if you haven't yet)) just so I could write a good quality, dramatic high school fic. I still feel as though even though I did all this, this story still gon' suck ass. Cuz it's not like I have a special twist or whatever like Jazmine and Huey don't like each other like no they've literally just grown up, this is high school, no plot twists before the story; all the plot twists, all the drama, all the BS... It's all in this. And I apologize that this is gonna be really really assy in the beginning. I have to catch the hang of it. If you have any suggestions, that hit me up; I'm pretty much open to anything, and trying to go with the flow of whatever I wrote last, to make it what I'll write next. So yah, without further ado, I give you: ****_Don't Look for What You're Not Willing to Giv_****e. Enjoy, bruh.**

**P.S. Kinda sorta new format. And I will tell you if it's someone's specific POV.**

**DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN THE BOONDOCKS, CHEERIOS  
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Describe yourself in one word.

_Real nigga.  
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Real nigga is two words.  
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_I know. But real niggas don't follow instructions!_

_Riley Freeman, German interviewer; It's a Black President, Huey Freeman_

_Two days before school starts._

_McWuncler's - Woodcrest, MA._

_Huey, Jazmine, Cindy, Caesar, Riley._

"Booo!" Riley yells, directed towards Huey.

"Yea, why you gotta be such a hater, McHater?" Cindy asks, adding on to Riley's comment.

"McWuncler's is DISGUSTING!" Huey insists. "Remember when you and Granddad accidentally dropped those McWuncler's fries in the backseat, and when he made us clean the car, they were still fresh?"

"So?" Caesar questions, not sure of what his point is.

"That means that they use so many chemicals, and process their fries so much, that months and months later, they can still smell the same, feel the same- everything. And you could still eat them... That's unnatural."

"Whateva, nigga," Cindy says, continuing to munch on her fries.

"I'm with C-Murph... Besides, if it did all that, then why didn't you use them instead of those nasty Cheerios and green beans when you thought the world was ending?" Riley comments.

"Ugh; don't remind me," Jazmine says, walking back to the table from throwing her fries away, after hearing Huey's statement on them.

"Bitch, you know-" Riley starts, and Huey kicks him under the table. "Mariah," Riley self-corrects himself, "you know that you were scared as HELL about all dat; listening to what Huey says and shit. I mean, did you not just throw out your fries _because_ of Huey's comment?"

Jazmine looks the other way while blushing. "No, I just was full," she poorly lies.

"Stop lying," Cindy says.

"It's real obvious, too," Riley adds on. Cindy and him make eye contact and nod with a devious smirk, before looking back at Jazmine.

"AND GET OFF HIS DICK, NIGGA!" Riley and Cindy scream in unison, catching the whole restaurant's attention.

"The fuck y'all looking at?" Cindy asks, using Ed Wuncler III's line, and everyone returns to minding their own business.

Caesar looks down to check his watch.

"Yo, we betta bounce soon," he suggests, and everyone else looks at their phone for the time, followed by agreeing.

\-_-/

_The night before school starts._

_Everyone's individual residences - Woodcrest, MA._

_Jazmine, Cindy.  
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"Cindy, I can't believe school's starting tomorrow..." Jazmine vents to Cindy over the phone.

"Me neither, Jazzy Fresh," Cindy replies.

The two had been best (female) friends since The Fundraiser a few years back. Then, both 10 years old, they would've never thought that their part time friendship would continue into high school; both girls now 17, in the 12th grade; Riley in 10th.

"You think we got a lot of new students?"

"I 'on't know, Jaz. I mean, it is a public school... we probably got at least 10. Riley probably got like 50, though, cuz he's in 10th grade. We don't get as much since it's our last year."

"Yeah, you're probably right."

"Girl, when am I not? I stay being correct... and you know it, too!"

Jazmine laughs at Cindy's response, before saying goodnight and hanging up.

"See ya tomorrow Cin'"

"See you whenever I decide to show up to school," Cindy jokes, referring to her skipping and cutting school or classes.

_Morning of the first day of school._

_J. Edgar Hoover High School - Woodcrest, MA_

_Riley's POV_

Damn. I can't wait for niggas to start hating; boy, I can't wait!

I already knew I was gonna be the hottest nigga in class - fuck dat, in the whole entire school - when I saw what McHater was wearing to school. Some black shirt and camo pants, tryna be all basic and shit. I came out the house in my "Trust No One" t-shirt, which, of course, had a pic of the person who diagnosed Thuglife himself (plus actor, rapper, poet etc.) Tupac Amaru Shakur. One exception for sounding gay is when it comes to Pac; he will forever be the greatest. It also had a smaller picture of Biggie on it, being the whole East Coast West Coast beef.

On the bottom, I was wearing jeans, which I was sagging currently, even though I had my belt. But, hey, as I've been saying foreva: real niggas don't follow instructions.

I got out the car, and met C-Murph, Mariah, and the dread head at a nearby bench; Huey following right behind me. We were all supposed to arrive at the same time, and it looks like _they __did_, at least; but Granddad with his old self is still driving us around, since he's too cheap to get Huey a car. But you know how we do... we run on CP time. Colored People time.

Once we met up at the bench, and Jazmine got on Huey's dick and everything, we started to head inside. Ima be straight up: I don't know how Huey's ass hasn't realized that Jazmine likes him already. Like the nigga all smart and shit, but he retarded when it comes to hoes. If I was Jazzy Fresh, I'da up and left his ass by now, and found some other random nigga; no homo.

But I was snapped out of my thoughts when Ed Wuncler Sr. stopped us at the door, and told us we were going to be attending his new school, or he'd make us all go broke and in-debt; for Huey and me, again.

Even Huey said yes, and with that, we were put on a van and sent to Wuncler Hills Academy, in the heart of Woodcrest, where some chigga named Hiro Otomo was supposed to be waiting for us.

When we pulled up at the new school, which we found out on the way there was a private school and we were all automatically accepted, we asked him why he did this.

"Let's just say I woke up one day and decided to be generous," he tells us, which we can all clearly tell is a lie.

"What's the real reason?" Caesar asks, and Ed Wuncler Sr. turns around.

"Look, the principal of that school said that a bunch of people were starting fights over you and all sorts of shit like that... apparently you're some good looking kids or whatever."

"Pause," I speak up, and he glares at me, before continuing.

"And the PTA board here wants some good looking kids here," he finishes, and we all look at him like he's cukoo for cocoa puffs.

"The school just opened today... and that doesn't even make sense, anyways... what's the real reason, Wuncler?" Huey asks, trying to find the real reasoning.

Ed pinches the bridge of his nose, and sighs.

"Just tell them, boss," his security guard persuades.

Ed pulls out his phone and hands it to me. It was a group message with every parent in Woodcrest (it's amazing what rich people can do with their phones... my group chats go up to like 30 max) asking them if they wanted to send their child here, to Wuncler Hills Academy, or WHA. And as I scroll down, I see all of our parents responding yes, and him telling every parent to give him the tuition money online.

Cindy looks over my shoulder, and shakes her head.

"Our parents fucked us up... they signed us up for this school, without even telling us," she informs Huey, Caesar and Jazmine.

As we get out the car, we see more vans pull up with security guards that look just like the one in the passenger seat of this van, next to Ed Wuncler.

"Looks like we're not the only ones," Jazmine says, pointing out the other kids - clearly out of the dress code that we learned about in the van - just like us.

We look up at the different signs while walking down the mat/rug, that was really just like a carpet because of the length, they laid down in front of the main entrance to the school. But the last one, right above the doors, catches my and Huey's attention the most.

_Excellence. For the Rich. _the banner, obviously designed by Ed Wuncler Sr. himself, reads.

"This some ol' bullshit," we say in unison, heading through the doors, at last, to meet with Hiro... whateva his last name was.

_First Day of School_

_Wuncler Hills Academy_

_Cindy's POV_

We walked in the school, and the first thing I saw was every bitch, every hoe, every whateva, all had on these uniforms; minus us and the people behind us. Some boy named Hiro met us near the door, and behind him, there was a line of students holding cards; like the personal drivers that have cards with the last names of people at the airport. Us and the people behind us were all lead to this big closet, which divided into two sections—boys and girls changing sections—by Hiro and the other hosts.

"Boo, this is hella gay!" Riley yells out in protest.

"GAY is OKAY!" Some boy calls out.

"Not for Young Reezy it ain't," Riley fires back, and the, possibly, gay boy looks appalled.

"Well for Ryan Dinkley it is. I'm Ryan Dinkley, and I am gay, and gay is okay!" the boy, I now know is named Ryan, responds.

"Awww great! Now you got me _literally _changing in here with some faggots. Just great!" Riley sarcastically complains.

"Look, man, chill. This is our job. You 'on't have to change in here… you can go to the bathroom and change in the stall or whatever," Hiro calms Riley, giving him more options.

"Well where da bathrooms at?" Riley asks, and I laugh a bit. That boy is just too much.

Hiro tosses different polo and pant combinations to the boys, and different polo and skirt combinations to the girls.

Our whole crew follows Hiro out to the hallway, backpacks and all, while the other hosts stay with the few that decided not to go to the _many_ bathrooms available in this school.

"Damn, the school's plumbing bill most be higher than Snoop Dogg and Wiz Khalifa combined!" I comment on the many water-related facilities, and the whole crew laughs.

"If that's how high the plumbing bill is, I'm interested to see how high the electric bill is!" Riley jokingly adds on.

"Shit, you right! No LED lights in this whole big ass place, yet a light bulb every single place they can fit one," Caesar piles on to the jokes.

Huey murmurs something to Jazmine that I can't exactly make out, and Jazzy begins to giggle.

"Aye, Jaz! What did McHater say?" I question, and she turns around. She looks to Huey to repeat himself, and he does so, willingly.

"I said, 'I wonder if the teachers will be as high as the bills that the Buddha heads are talking about, or as high as the Buddha heads themselves'," he tells us, referring to us as Buddha heads; as in being so chill because of a high, that you're like Buddha. To be honest, I love Buddha. I wanted to look into Buddhism, for various different reasons, but as soon as my parents were aware of me exploring it, they shut it down—real quick.

"Wow, McHater actually got a good joke in," Riley says, shaking his head in amazement.

"Not valid, though. I mean, we don't smoke, do we?" Caesar asks, already knowing that we don't; bringing out the incorrectness of Huey's point.

"That was real gay, my nigga. Cut that out," Riley half-scolds Caesar on him correcting Riley, and Caesar puts his hands up as if to say "I surrender".

We finally finish walking down the hall, and we land at the bathrooms closest to our homeroom; as requested.

"Thanks, my chigga," Riley thanks Hiro; now claiming him to be accepted in our crew.

"Anytime," Hiro replies, and with that, he's gone.

"We gotta change, quick," Huey informs us of the obvious, looking down at his watch. "We've got to get all of our schedules and things from the main office, and who knows how long that'll take," he continues, speaking of things the rest of us—or at least me—neglected to factor into… anything.

Without even debating about Huey's words, Riley included, we all head off into the bathrooms to change.

_8:55am, First Day of School_

_Women's Bathroom in the North Hallway of Wuncler Hills Academy_

_Jazmine's POV_

I was buttoning up the side of my skirt, which I know realized was really a skort. There was a part you zippered up, then a flap to pull across and button… _rather convenient_. I nod my head to myself, acknowledging my own thoughts.

I went out to Cindy, who was waiting for me, of course, and we checked ourselves in the mirror, after complimenting each other on our appearances.

Cindy was wearing a navy blue uniform skort, with a long sleeve light yellow shirt, that had "WHA" in the corner—logo style.

I, on the other hand, had a plaid skirt, consisting of a navy blue base, with white, green and yellow on top. I also had a short sleeve white polo on, with a navy blue quarter sweater on top of it; both of which had "WHA" just like Cindy's, and what seemed like everyone else's.

We went outside, and the boys looked like they had been waiting for centuries. Huey, of course, was scowling and pinching his nose while his eyes are closed, and as soon as he heard us exit the bathroom, his eyes were wide open.

"Damn, Huey! I saw that," Riley starts. "So, now, tell me: did you open your eyes because you were impatient, because you a super nigga and can hear things from miles away, or because you heard your bitch, Jaz, coming?"

"Jazmine's not a bitch, Riley. And if anything, she's not mine," it seemed like he tried to select his words carefully, but they still made me feel weird. Obviously, from his response, this was a sensitive topic, per say, but the final result of his words came out, well… a bit offensive, I guess. Yes, I do _think _I like Huey… but how do I know for sure? How can anyone know they like anyone else for sure?

**A/N: Yah so I'm gonna leave it there. I was gonna go on into getting their schedules, but then I thought of something that could happen then, so I've decided to delay. Watch out for my new story, **_**Mixed Feelings and Money Problems**_**(Ciley all day), which should be published, like… now..? (idk if it showed up yet). And make sure to review, bruh!**


	2. Identity, Identity

**A/N: and it goes on. Kinda liking this whole high school fic thing…. again.**

**P.S. this chapter isn't as long as I would've liked it to be, but the dynamic of how long the chapters are and how much will fit in a day will change after this first day of school.**

**DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN THE BOONDOCKS**

_You do what you can for your people, and they make you wonder why you even bother…_

_Huey Freeman; The Trial of R. Kelly_

_**First Day of School**_

_**Main Office**_

_**Huey's POV**_

Sometimes, I truly wondered how I maintained such patience with a brother, or sibling in general—maybe even person in general—like Riley. He seems to always go that extra step to screw up what your subconscious wants you to do, or is making you do, gradually.

But that was behind the point now, I suppose. We were in the main office, trying to get all of our schedules before second period started. But apparently our wish was not going to be granted, based on the assistant's level of intelligence, and patience with teenagers.

"A nigga ain't got all day, bitch!" Riley complains.

"You better watch your mouth, young man," the assistant, Ms. Felkinheiner, warns Riley.

"I wish a bitch would tell my day one what to do," Cindy stands up for Riley. "You don't know nothing about us, hoe. And if I were you, I'd shut the _fuck_ up—right now."

"That's it—Vice Principal Reagan! Vice Principal Reagan!" she calls out for the principal, and heads towards his office door.

"Please don't tell me his first name is Ronald," I think out loud, and everyone begins to laugh—Riley laughing the most. Well, more like cracking up, I suppose.

"I wonder why she called the vice principal out instead of the principal," Caesar ponders out loud, and everyone nods their head in agreement, all sharing the same ponder.

"Ugh… of course he's not here…" Ms. Felkinheiner whines.

"Why not the principal?" Caesar asks her, and she glares at him.

"Principal Hasan! Mr. Hajjar?!" She calls out, and we all bust out laughing.

"Of course!" Riley exclaims, leading the lead. "You didn't wanna call the principal cuz the nigga's Arab."

"We must stand tall with our Arab brothers!" I call out, and Jazmine laughs head first in my chest, holding on to me with her left arm for support.

"As-salamu alaykum," Caesar says in a more serious tone than the ones Riley and I possessed, and we all laugh even harder.

"And peace be upon you as well," the man known as Principal Hasan Hajjar responds. "What seems to be the problem, Ms. Felkinheiner?" he asks in a calm manner.

"These children have quite the potty mouths, and refuse to cooperate, nor have patience," Ms. Felkinheiner complains to Principal Hajjar.

"What task were you trying to get them to do?" he asks.

"That hoe was tryna get us in trouble cuz she couldn't work the printer to print out our schedules," Cindy informs him.

"Here, allow me to," Principal Hajjar says, fixing the printer, and our schedules finally begin to print out.

"Thank you, Principal Hajjar," Caesar thanks him rather humbly and graciously.

"Nonsense… you know what, you kids seem like a good bunch. Call me Hasan. And make sure to contact me if anything is troubling you," he tells us, handing us each our own individual schedule.

"Thanks for looking out, brother," Riley says as we walk out, and begin to head to our classes; schedules in tact.

"Huey, let me see your schedule," Jazmine commands, taking my schedule out of my hand before I can even hand it to her as she had originally asked. "Yay! We have English together right now!" She exclaims, still possessing what I would consider too much enthusiasm for a senior in high school—two months younger than me, us both 17.

"Why are you so excited about English? I mean, it's the only language you speak," I respond, and she frowns—looking like she's thinking of a comeback—then a small smirk begins to creep on her face.

"No, I've been taking Spanish since 9th grade, and a little French since last year," she replies, still smirking. "Of which we have both classes together… don't be such a downer, Freeman. Otherwise, I'm switching out of your classes."

"Alright, alright…" I assure her, though her and I both know I'm going to fit a negative comment in somewhere.

"Much better… besides, I'm sure there's a bunch of other hot guys here," she says, taking my hand and pulling me to English, leaving a little blush on my face, and leaving me in thought.

_If there are a lot of horny guys here, then what if they just see Jazmine as a piece of meat, or another girl whose cherry they want to pop?_

_**Second Period of the First Day of School**_

_**Ms. Becker's Math Class**_

_**Riley's POV**_

Right now I was in math with this hussy of a teacher, and Cindy and Caesar. Even though I was in 10th grade, and they were in 12th, they had a nigga moving up in classes and shit cuz they said I was smart or whatever.

Right now, this hussy was teaching us calculus. Yep, this was definitely a class this nigga was gon' skip on the regular.

_**Cindy's POV**_

I couldn't believe this hoe of a teacher right now, Ms. Becker. Single ass mothafucka. She was all over every high school guy she could be over, especially Riley.

Aye, white chicks stay wanting the BBC.

"Is it just me, or is this teacher hella thirsty?" I ask Caesar in a whispering tone.

"Naw, it's not just you. She hella thirsty, and all over Riley… you think he know?" He responds, and I shrug my shoulders.

"Ima ask him now," I say, a bit louder.

"What is that, Miss McPhearson? A question? Perhaps what the legal age is here in Woodcrest for sexual contact with a minor? Or was it something else?" Ms. Becker says, and the bell rings, but people still wait for my reaction.

I tried to hold in my breath, but I just couldn't anymore, and I busted out laughing.

"Yo, you's a desperate ass hoe, Ms. Becker! You really want Riley's BBC, don't you?"

"And how would you know that it's a BBC, Ms. McPhearson?"

"Same way you wanna know," I respond swiftly, lying. I had never done anything with Riley, but these heffas could think that I have for now.

"Would you like to go to the principal's office?"

"Would you like to get some counseling? Cuz I been there, done that. Hasan's a G. Besides; you can't do nothing to me. Class been out." And with that, I leave the classroom; Riley at my side and Caesar walking behind us, probably tryna get a girl's number or something. He holla's at anyone—telling us he like someone, but talking to every girl in the book.

"So was dat why she kept on bending down and shoving her ass in my face, checking on kids' work near me?" Riley asks in a rather naïve manner. I slowly nod yes, and he makes a disgusted face.

"For all that you know, I woulda thought you woulda been able to sense that she at least digged you in some type of way."

"Nigga, it's a teacher. Am I just supposed to come in thinking every teacher gon' love me? Cuz then I need to add that to my list of fags and hoes… everyone wanna get a piece of Young Reezy. Besides, that hoe nasty."

"Whatever you say, Riley."

"Exactly what I thought," he says in a kind of proud manner, but I can tell he just playing.

"That's her," some girl we walk by says to her friend, pointing at me. As if being able to read my thoughts, Riley grabs my arm, stopping me from busting a girl up. _Damn, I hate it when people point at me._

"I just wanna ask her what's up cuz obviously she like sticking her finger around or something… I 'on't even get the point of it."

"'Cin…" he tries to calm me down, but I begin to move my hand to see around Riley, and yell at this hoe.

"How you about to point at someone like dat, huh? It ain't like I ain't gon' feel your big 'ole nasty ass fingers pointing at me… staring ain't gon' help, either!" I yell the last part at the nosey people who slowed down or even stopped around us to see what was going on.

"What, she think she Black or something?" the friend asks, and they both make a petty laughing sound. This is when Riley moves forward, getting closer to the girls, and both begin to melt.

"Don't ever say that C-Murph ain't Black. I know that y'all ain't gonna understand it to the point I may understand it, but, bottom line: she not just another white girl who loves Black culture, but not its people, or another white person that try to act black so they can get away with saying 'nigga'. It's not like that with C-Murph, and y'all _best _remember that. Tell all your other little hoeish friends while you're at it."

"Whatever you want, sexy," the first girl, who had originally pointed at me, draws a line down Riley's chest, trying to trace his abs through the polo, until Riley flicks her hand off, and walks back to me.

"I guess that hoe just like to use that finger or something," Riley jokes, coming back to me, and I laugh a bit.

"She still bad as hell," Caesar says, catching up to us.

"Can you not start with your wet dreams this time? We're about to eat, and I don't want to lose my appetite again," Huey pleads, making us all laugh. Jazmine was right behind him. I guess they were both amongst the crowd that saw the conflict, and just caught up with us afterwards.

"That was a big crowd. I guess this is the most crowded hallway here," Jazmine comments, and we all agree. "So, I'm guessing your first class was just about as average or bad as ours was?" she adds on.

"Girl, I gotta tell you all about it right after I drop my shit in my locker for break. We had the thirstiest teacher, who was all over Riley… bending down to have her ass in front of him and everything… and he didn't even notice!" I bust out laughing.

"Here she go again…" Riley sighs, and all of us laugh, if not laughing already.

It's the moments like these I love the most. And I hope they won't be eliminated because of change this year, or because of the people at this school.

_**Break (Snack)**  
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_**Cathy M. Moore Cafeteria**_

_**Huey's POV**_

Every major building or public area in this school is named after someone rich who gave money to the school... mhm. Cathy M. Moore cafeteria was where I was right now; probably just another citizen of Woodcrest who attended garden parties I didn't know about nor care to know about and/or attend. There are also spaces named after those who Ed Wuncler Sr. admired, such as Ronald Wilson Reagan (also known as the literal devil), J. Edgar Hoover, and Richard Nixon... also absolutely ridiculous.

I mean, you don't see my naming different parts of my locker after people in the Black Panther Party/Black Panther Party for Self Defense, do you? Exactly. So why does he have to put up messages of white privilege around a place for learning?

"So, these uniforms..." Caesar starts off, and we all sigh at the sight of them.

"Man, I just wanna go back to when niggas wasn't putting me in random outfits," Riley complains.

"That was hardly two hours ago, dumbass," Cindy insultingly responds.

"And in the two hours we've been here, I've already had to save your ass once," Riley fires back with a smirk. Sometimes, I don't get how they remain best friends, being all of their similarities. But they've made it work, and I can't judge them based on what I'm able to see about their relationship. There's more to life than the lens we see our surroundings with, if having the ability to use that lens as a tool at all.

"So you wanna know what Huey and I did for English class?" Jazmine asks rather excitedly.

"Why are you so excited, Jaz?" Caesar asks with confusion.

"Am not..." she argues, and he rolls his eyes. "Anyways, after Huey requested that he not take the course, and spoke the truth that the teacher, Mr. Marham, couldn't understand, the teacher pulled out a dictionary and he would say the word he chose, asked Huey to spell it, then told him to give him the definition of the word. And by the end of class, Huey had got every word right, while others were just on their phones or telling other people in the school about how Huey was outsmarting Mr. Marham. So since his dignity was shattered, Mr. Marham ordered Huey to apologize to him for alleged tricks."

"And what did Huey's dumbass say?" Cindy asks, shaking her head in advance based on the expectation of another revolutionary quote from me; one you aren't supposed to say back to your teachers or advisors in such a way.

"I said 'I _refuse_ to succumb to the white man's conspiracy to brainwash me with eurocentrism'," I recite my statement perfectly. Everyone takes a second to process this, then busts out laughing.

"You'll always be a revolutionary, man. America's most wanted right here!" Riley jokes.

"Aye, you can kill a revolutionary, but you can't kill the revolution," Caesar adds on yet another true statement.

No matter how antisocial and anti-bullshit I may act, my friends were pretty damn good.

**A/N: So originally I was just gonna stop where Cindy's POV ended (which includes some foreshadowing - hint hint, wink wink) but I continued on with Huey's POV because I felt like I needed to cover some more boundaries with the crew while they were all together. So yah. I'll try to update as soon as I can. And until then... uhhh... read on and review. And check out everyone's fanfics in my community- as of this weekend, they're all published there. And make sure to change the filter so that M rated fanfics show up too. So yah. Bye again?**

**P.S. peep that I added what was originally the second chapter to what was originally the first chapter. So yah.**


	3. Humble As Hell, Loud As Ever

**A/N: So I'm probably gonna combine the last chapter with the first but then again I'm always changing my mind so we'll see.**

**DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN THE BOONDOCKS, Gucci, Versace, Prada, Old Navy, Forever 21**

_**The Freeman Residence**_

_**After School of the First Day of School**_

_**Huey's POV**_

We were now home alone, glad to be away from all the school oriented stuff… you know what? I won't even sugarcoat it. We were finally away from all the bullshit.

Well, at least the bullshit that the school carried.

Enough parents had complained that we wouldn't get homework on the first day of school, so now I was left with, what I considered, nothing to do. I started to walk upstairs and see what awaited for me.

Unfortunately, for me, that sight wasn't too pleasant.

"You could've at least locked the door!" I yell at Riley.

"And _you _coulda knocked!" he yells back at me, continuing to jerk off.

"Will you _please _take your hand off your penis for two seconds?!" I continue to yell at him in complete disbelief. Finally, he pulls up his freakin' pants.

"Nigga, either go out and find me a bitch to fuck, or remember to knock next time, so this don't happen again! I 'on't wanna deal with your gay ass, on top of Ryan and all the other gays at school that getting mad at me."

I can't believe I'm about to say this, being the circumstances and all, but I actually felt kind of bad. Although Riley wasn't as homophobic as other people, and sometimes, himself, portrayed him to be, he just wasn't down with a guy shoving their sexuality in his face. Shoot, he wasn't down with anyone of any sexuality shoving what or whom they like down his face—even if it was Riley himself.

I left the room abruptly, and headed on my way downstairs. I didn't bother to waste another second in the room, didn't bother to look to see if my laptop would cure my boredom, or if I had any unread books on my bookshelf.

Instead, I headed over to the library, and texted Caesar and Jazmine to meet me there. I assumed Jazmine would tell Cindy, too, so there was no point in asking her personally.

This is how we spent our time when we weren't in school; this is where we got all the laughs out; these are the last few moments we'll have before we head into college, and this last year at this stuck-up, rich ass high school better not take me away from my squad, as Cindy and Riley always called it.

I started to think more and more about what Riley had said, and I realized that, in all actuality, getting him a girlfriend might actually help him a lot. Being that we're all going to be leaving to college without him at the end of this year… he'll need someone to trust and spend his time with.

\-_-/

_**Wuncler Hills Academy: Mr. Brown's History Class.**_

_**Second Period.**_

_**Second Day of School**_

_**Riley's POV**_

We had just started school, and a nigga was already sick of it. I was in history with Mr. Brown right now, and this whitey's last name was Brown, yet his skin was so bright it was blinding my eyes? Shoulda changed his last name…

But that was beside the point. I didn't even have to think about how Huey was feeling right now. We were doing American history—and yes, yet again, they moved a nigga up to 12th grade history—and this nigga Huey, with some help of Caesar, had what could be transferred into an essay for every word that Mr. Brown said.

"And we remember that by saying 'Columbus sailed the ocean blue in 1492'," Mr. Brown recited. This nigga was coo-coo for cocoa puffs.

"He didn't really mean to sail the ocean blue, though. He was so ignorant that he thought he had landed in India, yet we give him a national holiday," Caesar interjected.

"Well, you see, Michael—"

"Caesar, please," Ceez corrects Mr. Brown.

"You see, Caesar," Mr. Brown begins, "the actual history of the holiday is that a group of Christian males was looking for a good role model for—"

"A good role model?" Huey questions in disbelief. "They may as well have looked at Ronald Reagan for the equivalent of Columbus, and how bad of a person he was. I mean, how can we just ignore what he and his men did to the indigenous people? It's in his letters to his apparent friends, after all—detailing how girls under 10 were in demand for sex. Why aren't we learning about how he and his men raped, murdered, and divided the indigenous people until there were none? How can we sit around, and pretend like Columbus and his men didn't cut off indigenous people's body parts, and make them wear them around their necks, to signal to others the punishment that was to come? Or how they had dogs feast on their limbs while they were still alive? We can't just ignore all that! We can't just dive into the history of the so-called 'New World' without hearing of the actual brutality that existed! And are we even gonna talk about the rich history of the Inca, Mayans, and all the other various peoples? Or are we just gonna sit around, and continue to get pushed around by the white man's conspiracy to brainwash colored America?"

"Well, uhh, Mr. Freeman," Mr. Brown tries to find a start. The bell rings shortly.

"Saved by the bell," Huey tells him, absolutely owning the bitch ass.

"Yo, Freeman, that was some gangsta shit," some White boy commented to Huey. He nods in acknowledgement. "You're in 12th grade, I assume," the boy keeps on talking.

"Yeah… who's asking?" Huey questions him. Caesar inches closer to see what's happening.

"No one. I'm Eric, by the way. I was just seeing if you know who that light skinned girl is, since she seemed to be all over you. Or Goldilocks over there," he says, pointing to Jazmine, then Cindy. Caesar inches closer yet again. I give him a nod to let him know he could proceed.

"They're kind of… how do I say… both on lockdown my other emotion hiding niggas," Caesar tell him, pointing to Huey and I. "Also known as these two desperate ass muthafuckas." To be honest, I didn't really get down with C-Murph like that. But if it was gonna protect her from practically getting raped by niggas, then shit—tell 'em that I have wet dreams every night about her and masturbate to pictures of her. After a while, a nigga gotta suck it up for his day one.

"As in, like, taken? Or..?" this thirsty ass boy continues to ask us. Thank goodness, Jazzy's desperate ass self always gotta be on Huey's dick, otherwise we would've not got out of that situation.

"Come on, Huey! We have to get to our next class!" She whines, pulling his hand. Cindy comes over and does the same thing to me, just without the whiny dialogue. She calls Ceez to follow, and he does so, but not before staring down Eric.

This nigga musta caught some jealousy.

"So, who was the wigga?" Cindy asks me.

"Some kid name Eric who wanted to get in your and Jazzy's panties," I respond calmly.

"Oh, word?" She asks for confirmation. I nod my head and she begins to walk the other way, towards Eric. She taps him as soon as she's in arm's reach, and he turns around, with a special kind of… pervy, per say, smirk on his face.

"So, who sent you my way, sexy?" I make out the words he's saying to Cindy. With no time to waste, she smacks him upside the head.

"Don't be saying stuff about me; don't think I'm just another random hoe in this bitch! And don't mention me to any other muthafuckas you know. Aiight?" Cindy yells, getting in homeboy's face. That, I actually heard. Cin' begins to run down the hallway to catch up with us.

"You see those titties shaking?" A random guy comments close to me, and I stare him down. I was so done with these rich ass pervs, and it was only a nigga's second day in school.

Thank the lord I didn't have to tell her myself, and Cin' heard him herself… he also received a stare down.

Now that the whole crew was caught up, we headed off to our lockers, which were hella close to each other. Immediately, I noticed signs up on the locker left of mine, which spread, a bit, to my own locker. Some other nigga came from another direction, and began to shake his head. I walked a little faster to give a salute to him, cuz I'm pretty sure the faggots who put the signs up there, meant to put it on my locker, and not his…

And yes, a salute. Real niggas don't follow instructions, so why'd you think real niggas would apologize?

"Eyy, man, they probably meant to put these signs on my locker and not yours—you can just ignore them," I tell him, struggling not to use the word 'sorry'.

"Nah, they were for me. All I did was tell Ryan Dinkley and the gays to not shove their sexuality in my face. It's not like I'm completely against them or nothing—I just don't understand why I gotta know about why you're attracted to another man's nuts. Know what I mean?" the Black boy, who looks about my age, replies.

"Yeah, I feel you, man. No homo," I say with a small smirk. "Yesterday, in the overall changing rooms, Ryan did his whole gay is okay thing. Like I get the memo, I just… don't like changing in front of everyone. But that can't be respected 'cause as soon as there's someone in the bitch that's another sexuality besides straight, then you get called a whatever phobe."

"Exactly! So… you in what? 11th grade?"

"Nah, I'm in 10th. They got a nigga in practically all 12th grade classes, though. Name's Riley Freeman, but I got a bunch of aliases, like: Escobar, Reezy or Young Reezy, Pillsbury Doughboy, Louis Rich, H.R. Paper Stacks, Horse Choker—all that shit. You can just stick with Riley or Reezy for now, though."

"Alright, man, I get you. I'm in 10th, too. Name's Kai. Kai Whatley-Patterson."

"And what's the story behind that name?"

"My last name? Mom got remarried when I was like, two, and changed my name. Don't know who my real pops is, and step pops is still… let's just say I got mixed emotions for that nigga. What about your parents?"

"They not here," I explain to him, looking down at the ground. "They died when we still lived in Chicago, instead of Whitesville, when I was little. My brother Huey and I are raised by our Granddad now, who's frankly fucking up all the cash we woulda ever been able to get our hands on," I say with a laugh, and refocus my eye contact. He laughs as well, and a mutual feeling rises in the air, I'm not sure what feeling specifically, though. We stop laughing, and Cindy shows up to get me for my next class.

"Ima catch you later," I tell Kai.

"Aiight, son. See you around," he responds.

"And who was that, Reez? He was fine! I mean, hazel eyes, that perfect medium brown skin, hair cut and groomed… I mean, he's doing something right, you gotta admit. He not as fine as y'all, 'cause you, Caesar, and Huey are pretty up there, but he's hella close," Cindy chatters all about.

"Cin', you do realize that you just called myself, my brother, and Ceez fine, right?"

"So? Y'all are my day ones. Well, not really Huey, but you get what I mean. We're crew. We're squad. Whatever the hell you wanna call it, it's another grouping, just like family. And y'all frankly look nice. So either take the damn compliment or none will follow."

"Damn, aiight, girl. I need a compliment every once in a while… don't take that away!" I joke. C-Murph's always been one to make me laugh to limits I never knew I could reach.

_**Lori M. Fields Gymnasium**_

_**Last Period**_

_**Cindy's POV**_

The next few classes were a breeze. Well, not _literally _a breeze, in terms of difficulty and the material we're learning and shit, but look—tomorrow's the weekend, and the last class I have today is mufuckin' P.E.

How much simpler could my shit get?

When we arrived at the gym—which is, yet again, named for some random, rich broad—the dyke of a coach threw us our uniforms, and sent us off into the gender divided locker rooms to change.

The whole squad was in here, which made it all the better. I only had one class without anyone in the squad, and that didn't occur until Tuesday, thank goodness. It would give me some time to get used to this rich ass school. Even in my home, no matter how much I front and brag in public as jokes, I was the most humble.

My mom got nothing but Gucci, Versace and Prada and I'm straight chilling with my Old Navy sweatpants and Forever 21 basic tee. People could straight shop for clothes out of my parents' walk-in closet, and when they tried to hook me up with the same kind of walk-in, I told 'em I was fine with my small closet.

That's the thing I don't get about my _genetic _people. They always feel the need to flaunt and show how much money they making; how much comes in their salary, and what their house is worth.

But enough of them.

I got random bitches looking at me while I finish changing right now. And I can only imagine how Reez feels, with random niggas looking at him as he changes into his, probably equally equivalent, tacky ass uniforms.

"Will you hurry up?" I ask Jazzy.

"Alright, alright," she half shoos me off. "I'm done."

We get out there, and before we can even officially meet up with the boys, we're told to run 10 laps.

"Bruh, they can't do this to us!" Caesar's ass already complains. He didn't have the same struggle, of sorts, Jazmine and I had.

"Cindy, I didn't wear a sports bra today!" Jazmine complains to me.

"And you think I did?" I sarcastically ask her.

"More to enjoy for us," Riley jokes, and the boys laugh. I flick him on the forehead, though I know he's not down with the whole predator thing towards women, and that he's really just a little boy at heart.

**A/N: so yah. I'm ending it there. I don't know when the next update is gonna be but I thank y'all for sticking with me through this process. And hopefully the next chapter will be longer, I just wanted to make sure I got something out to y'all. I definitely wanna get stuff out by Thursday, though, 'cause that's my birthday, and shoot—I wanna go into a new year of my life with some positivity lol.**


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